Promises
by xXNorwegianAssassinXx
Summary: Ada finds herself in the same drunken habit from everything that she has been though. A turn of events will change it all, including the meeting an unexpected old friend.
1. Chapter 1

DISCLAIMER! I don't own Ada or Leon or Resident Evil.... or anything for that matter.

Hope you enjoy anyways.

Promises

Chapter 1_  
A drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts._

You walk into the bar, and you know that people are watching you. You've become oblivious to these stares after so many previous occurrences, and ignore them, as you walk up to the counter to order. You place yourself lightly into the bar stool at the end, crossing your legs out of habit. The barman comes up to you and watches you with a slight hunger in his eyes.

"Martini." Your voice is calm and silky, even if the repetitiveness of the word is gnawing at your nerves.

He turns around and begins making your drink. You marvel at how fast and skilled his hands are at doing this. He must have had years of practice. He turns and places the drink into your waiting hands.

"Thank you." You purr as you lift the drink up to your lips.

He walks further along the bar, to the other waiting patrons, but you know he's watching you out of the corner of his eye.

You take a sip of the drink, the cool liquid spilling past your lips, and down your throat, burning as it makes its way down. You quite like the way it tickles your insides, one of those few rare feelings, but by now, you have gotten used to it and that feeling just isn't the same. You take another sip and let your eyes wander for a second. You take a look at the barman who is consumed in his work. You bring your eyes back to the table in front, scanning its surface. You then look at the half full martini, watching the liquid swirl in its glass cage. You take another sip, but decide to finish.

You look at the barman, who is already making his way over. You push the glass to his side of the table and he understands. He turns and swiftly makes another. This time, he places it in front of you and you eagerly pull it into your waiting hands. You hold onto it like it's the only thing holding you down and keeping you alive. He watches you for a few seconds, then returns back to the other end of the bar. This had become a regular thing.

After Spain two months ago, you had begun coming to bars and order drinks. Its not really began to, its more like returned to. The same thing happened to you six years ago after the Raccoon City incident. They both had one thing in common, and that similarity was the cause. Leon. You hadn't expected to see him in Spain, just an unlucky coincidence. For six years, you had kept him as a memory, an objective that you could never reach, just to keep you going. Seeing him, though, that had set you off. During the six years you were presumed dead, you had grown harder. You had to because no great assassin had a soft side. You recall the look in Leon's eyes when you smirked down at him from the safe perch in the helicopter. You shudder slightly as you remember the accusation, betrayal, longing and sadness hinted in eyes that he hid so well.

You came to these establishments to lose yourself, your train of thought. It was like a sort of medication for the pain, that only dulled it slightly, not really fixing anything. You had stopped talking overly much, so people would stay away from you, and you hopefully wouldn't crack. You had to keep choosing a new place each time, and this way people couldn't follow so easily.

This time you had picked something against your usual choice of bar, picking something that was sure to get more crowded. This bar happens to be more towards the centre of town, instead of the less busy spots that you prefer. Why you decided to come here is beyond you. Maybe you needed a change or it might have been premonition of some sort.

As you finish off the last of you second martini, you vision swims slightly and you crave something stronger. As the barman makes his appearance once more, you ask for an irregular choice.

"Vodka."

He turns and grabs the glass and bottle, but you stop him with words. "Just give me the rest of it."

He faces you, with a questioning look. "Are you sure you want all of it?"

His voice is Australian, so you tune into is automatically. You smile slyly and he understands. He puts the bottle down on the counter and eyes you warily, before walking off once more.

The bottle is one and a half litres but a little bit more then a third is missing. You pick up the bottle and pour yourself a glass. You bring it up into your waiting lips, the potent alcohols smell burning your nose. You gingerly take a taste of the stinging liquid and frown in displeasure. You remember why you hated vodka, if only for the foreign taste. You prefer wine but not in a bar, for it doesn't have the same rush.

As you finish that cup and pour a second, you vision swims just a little bit more. You love watching the world blur, as if the laws of physics themselves are breaking, instead of the alcohol twisting your vision.

As you drink the second glass, time beings to make itself scarce and melt away. Not that time mattered in the first place.

You finish pouring a third and you hear the door open. It sounds like one person entering, but you can't trust yourself in this condition. You can hear that the footsteps are slightly heavier, so it must be male, and they stop just a few feet in. You know he's probably scanning the bar and will probably come and sit in the empty seat beside you. You can feel his gaze on your back, as he is most likely thinking he is going to get lucky with the likes of you. _Yeah right ._You scowl to yourself as you sip the third glass, ignoring the bite. You can hear his footsteps begin to approach you and you pretend not to notice. He stops behind you, slightly to the left, where the vacant seat is.

"Ada?"

You instantly freeze up between taking a drink of the vodka. You know that voice; you know it only to well. You silently hope that you are wrong, but in the back of your mind, that you are right.

You slowly turn your head and upper body to face _him_, drink still in hand. Even in this drunken state you had been correct.

"Leon." You voice is slightly slurred.

"Ada, what are you doing here?" His voice is full of disapproval.

You blink at him savoring the sight of two of him. "Celebrating. Cant you tell?" The sarcasm is still in your voice.

He sits in the barstool and continues watching you with a look that parents give their children when they are caught doing something they shouldn't be doing. You have some more of the drink, feeling it soak your tight throat.

"Care to join me?" You ask picking up the almost empty bottle beside you.

There is hurt in his eyes that is covering up a look of sadness. It hurts to see him like this, and you never attended it to happen. You have to fight yourself not to flinch against it. "No thanks. I'm not one to drink vodka."

You shrug clumsily. "More for me."

You finish the cup and fill it with the remnants in the bottle. _There's not enough for him anyway_. You make no move to drink the sour liquid, only wrap your warm fingers around the cool smoothness of the glass.

You didn't notice the barman until he spoke. "Hey, Leon! You want the usual today, or is that even a question?" He chuckles to himself.

"Not today, Christopher." Leon says nonchalantly.

"That's not like you Leon." He eyes you quickly. "But I'll leave you alone."

He takes your empty bottle and walks off. You slowly realize that it's not only you who has been suffering after Spain, and probably much longer. It makes you feel slightly ill that you both are suffering for each other when you should be suffering together or not at all. _It's my fault. I shouldn't have let Leon get the best of me, but somehow he did and I couldn't stop it._ His voice snaps you back to reality.

"You shouldn't be doing this, you know." His voice sounds heavy and tired.

You mouth is faster then your mind at this moment. "Who are you to worry about my welfare? I've lived this long haven't I?" _Define live_.

You are trying to defend yourself against nothing, if only your independency. You can't bring yourself to look into his eyes no so you look at the glass that's half full. Right now it looks more like half empty. You hear him sigh slightly and you know that he isn't up for fighting you. You notice that he doesn't ask you why you are here and that is probably due to that answer already being known.

You release the glass that you were unconsciously squeezing. "I'll see you around, Leon."

You stand and take a step, and realize how big of a mistake that was when your head pounds and you trip. Before you can hit the floor, you feel a strong figure holding you up. You can't think straight and it makes it hard to come up with a retort.

"How do you plan to get anywhere in this state?" His voice is as soft as a child's blanket, and it almost makes you forget the anger you _must _show him.

He has to stay away from you because you are dangerous. You hurt him and there are others that will hurt him worse.

"Drive, how else?" You're serious.

You had perfected the art for training and all the years of practice had defiantly helped. You realize how reckless that must sound to him, even if it's normal for you.

He sighs heavily. "I don't care what you think of me, but I'm not letting you drive in this condition."

You look up at him and you can see that he is serious, and can understand your pain and uneasiness. His arm is wrapped tightly around your waist and you know he's serious.

"Fine." You sound slightly disgusted at the fact that he won't leave you alone, even after all you have done to him.

You walk towards the door and he's still holding you up, protectively.

"I think I can stand on my own, thank you." You persuade him with words to release you.

He comprehends how you feel about help from others and releases you slowly, making sure you can stand on your own. You can, thanks to practice and walk out of the bar. You feel him following you, but you keep walking to where you parked the car.

"My car happens to be in the other direction." He says to you as if you thought you knew where you were going.

"I still have to check on my car; make sure its safe for the night." Your car is one of your most prized possessions, thanks to all the things it has gotten you through.

He goes with you, walking beside you and keeping perfect pace. Your vision is blurred but that had become almost normal. As you walk down the dark street in silence, your heels clicking in sync, you wonder how Leon had been. You quickly push it to the back of your mind, because it's the last thing you should be thinking about. You can feel that Leon is wary of you; one reason would be how well you are walking intoxicated. You have nothing to be proud of. It's a bad habit that turned into a lifestyle. The street you are on is beginning to get busier and that was the reason you didn't park on it.

You make an abrupt right turn and head into the dark alley. Leon stays by your side but you can feel his uneasiness. Skulking around in dark alleyways at night just isn't this thing, but its becoming yours. You had to park further away so nobody would make assumptions about the car and link it to you. You hate all the secretive business but it's that or people will be after you for one reason or the next.

Because your senses are so fuzzy, you didn't hear the group of people waiting for you around the next corner. As you exit the alleyway and enter the next, Leon gets taken down by two men. Thank to the alcohol, you're much slower then you would like to be. You turn to help Leon from his attackers, but three more have circled you. You let out a frustrated growl, as you can't get to Leon.

Even in the dark, you can see the first guy smirk and come at you. Although you are in this state, you are still much more experienced then this mugger. You take him down fast and effortlessly, leaving him in an unconscious pile at your feet. You turn to the other two stepping over their unconscious friend. They are both looking a little more cautious at what you pulled off. They try another technique, by splitting up and attacking from different sides.

You charge towards the one on the right. He doesn't expect it, so you have the upper hand. You punch him in the gut, hard, and as he doubles over in pain, you knee him in the face, feeling the hard cartilage of his nose crumble with the strength of the hit. You move to the side, push him so has off balance and roundhouse kick him in the head. He hits the cement unconscious and bleeding. _And another one bites the dust._

You whip your head to the last guy, who got to witness what you are truly capable of. You run at him and kick him full force in the chest. You hear the solid thud of his head hitting the cement, and are pretty sure he's out.

You turn to help Leon, who was managing quite well on his own. You watch Leon finish off the second guy with an elbow to the side of the head and a forceful kick backwards.

He turns to you and his eyes widen instantly. "Ada! Behind you!"

You whirl around and find yourself face to face with the third guy you thought was unconscious. You have no time to react as you feel your stomach go unnaturally warm with pain. Your hands shoot to your abs and you stumble backwards away from him, towards Leon. You lift your hands away to find them coated in a thick layer of oily blood. The adrenaline from the fight wears off and leaves you with a burning pain.

Leon charges past you and flings himself onto the unexpecting victim. He knocks the guy unconscious with a punch to the head and a roundhouse kick to the wall.

You fall to your knees as Leon comes to your side, kneeling. You grimace at how fast you're losing blood, as exhaustion sweeps over your body. Your eyes are shut and your head is almost slack on your shoulders as you fight to stay awake.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, letting the looming darkness consume you.

* * *

**This is my first story so don't rant too hard on me. Constructive criticism is always welcome though. The next chapter will be up asap. All I have to do it write it up on this extremely slow computer, which may be fairly hard since its getting "fixed" tomorrow. When something is this broken, GIVE UP! Write a review. I need to know.... anything. Until next time, xNAx**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

_You never know how strong you are,  
until being strong is the only choice you have._

Your head pounds as you slowly begin to regain consciousness. Your senses are disorientated and your mind follows suite. Everything is foggy, and you almost find it difficult to recall your own name.

You slowly open your eyes, only to be met with fluorescent, blinding lights. That doesn't help whatsoever, if only frustrating you more. You blink several times, letting your eyes adjust, and hopefully you can see your surroundings and figure out where you are.

As your vision slowly returns, you scan the ceiling. The lights are large and rectangular, so obviously this is a building. The roof and the lights are sterile white. There's only one sort of building that can possibly be this clean. A hospital.

This upsets you, because you are not anonymous anymore. An easy prey for the hunters waiting for their chance.

_First things first_. You need to find out your surrounding and options, and figure out a quick escape plan. You mind is numb, and that slows your thought process, making even the scheming next to impossible.

You tilt your head to the right, your neck muscles crying out in pain, and seeing an IV and a heart monitor confirms that fact. You sigh, knowing its going to be hard to escape, being attached to all this machinery. _C'mon, Ada. Remove it quickly and painlessly and leave._

Before you can actually register to move your arm to commit the deeds, you hear a deep breathing on your left, and you slowly turn your head that direction.

Leon's head is lying on your bed, the rest of him still seated in the chair that he must have been watching you from at some point. He's using his arms as pillows, probably because he fell asleep without preparing or having a choice in that matter. His hair has fallen over his face making him look even more worn out. He has dark circles under his eyes that you don't remember at the bar. It makes you contemplate how long you have been out.

You watch him, unsure of what to think. It doesn't help that you have been drugged, probably for pain, and your whole body is unresponsive and you want to fall asleep again.

You know it's late because the window behind Leon is shut and the darkness is seeping through it.

You attempt to bring yourself up on your elbows, and hopefully get a better look at this place, but you notice your left hand is stuck. You hadn't been aware earlier, but Leon is holding your hand in his.

You breath catches slightly, and the heart monitor catches it. You give a quiet, irritated growl at this machine, because it's proof that your feel something at these small encounters with him. You chose to keep it at a minimal, but now that there was hard evidence, it felt uncomfortable. _Damn instruments. Hold yourself together, Ada. You can't reveal too much_.

You leave your hand wrapped softly inside of his, not wanting to wake him from what looks like the only sleep he has had in a while. You realize that for him to be so close, the state you were in, or are in now, was pretty bad. You push that thought to the far reaches of your mind to avoid thinking of the consequences and softly lay back down.

_Maybe if he's here, I won't have to worry_. Yeah, right. You tell yourself this just to give yourself a small bit of relief, from the madness of your world. A world that you created with your hands, that is now slowly strangling you to death. It's only a matter of time now, so why not spend it spoiling yourself, even if your inner assassin says otherwise?

This time, you voluntarily drift off, the exhaustion to much to handle. The warmth of Leon's hand seems to radiate through your entire body, and when you finally fall sleep, it doesn't seem to be as cold.

* * *

**Yes, I know. Short chapter. The only reason is because the next one is going to be BIG. Its also up fast because I could put it up easily, and obviously had it done quickly. The next chapter, on the other hand, will be a little bit. Thank you to everyone who is reviewing! I really appreciate the time you spent on it.**


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry if this one is a little dull. It going to pick up in the next chapter.

Chapter 3

_Wat__ch your thoughts; they become words.__  
Watch your words; they become actions.__  
Watch your action; they become habits.__  
Watch your habits; they become character.  
Watch your character; it becomes destiny. _

You wake up to the soft afternoon sunlight falling gently on your face. You don't feel as tired as you did last time you were awake and you wonder how long you truly slept. Your stomach doesn't hurt much now, but that is a relief. You can feel pain instead of that lost numbness.

You examine the room only to discover that Leon isn't around. A stroke of loneliness passes through you, but you push it off. _This isn't the time or the place. _It would make escaping much easier, both physically and emotionally.

You notice the machine that you are hooked up to, or in any case, _were_ hooked up to. Now it just sits beside your bed, the blank face staring blankly back at you. _Obviously it wasn't an overnight rest_.

You hear the soft padding of sneakers getting closer to your room. They are quick and light so you are pretty sure it's a female. Hopefully your senses haven't failed you, but your sense of time is totally gone. You have nothing better to do other then to act casual, as to not cause a reaction of any sort. Hopefully you could get some answers from her.

You watch as the handle on the door turns, and the door opens slowly and quietly to be sure not to disturb you, incase you were sleeping.

She peeks around the corner, and immediately reacts. "You're awake!"

She instantly leaves the scene, and you roll your eyes in annoyance. _That was so much help_. You sigh and decide to just wait for her to return. Its not like you have much of a choice now, is it? You listen intently as her footsteps quickly peter out and rush back, accompanied by a second pair.

The newcomers' footsteps still fall softly on the floor, but they are longer strides compared to the first nurse. The door swings open swiftly, but amazingly enough, it doesn't hit the wall.

A tall, blonde doctor is standing in the doorway, the other nurse, peering out from behind her. Something about the doctor seems so familiar, but you can't put your finger on it. It begins to infuriate you. The doctor gives a sharp look to the nurse behind her, and she retreats without delay.

She begins to stride up to you as she speaks. "It's quite a mess you were in."

Her voice is the perfect pitch to make you want to listen. Deep enough to make a point, but high enough to still be feminine. "Your recovery took a little longer then expected, but at least you are awake now."

Her voice is even more aggravatingly familiar, and it tickles the back of your memory. You want to ask her what her name is, but you don't want to look peculiar.

"I need to check the stitches, and see if you are heeling properly, if that's ok with you." It's more of a command then a question.

You are too busy fighting your memories to give a proper answer, so you nod, trying to stay in reality. She moves your hospital gown, across the plane of your stomach to reveal a sickly, discoloured streak just to the right of your naval. You cannot contain the gasp that makes its way through your parted lips, forcing its exit.

It's about two inches long and half an inch thick. The wound has almost finished healing and it matches the old one you have. Just like the first, it brings up an empty feeling that something is wrong and leaves you to feel like crying. There is no way you would cry in front of anybody though. You are too proud and independent for that.

The last time you had cried was six years ago, looking at your sorry self in the mirror and the injury that you had attainted. You cried because it would be impossible to forget that mission, to forget _him, _because you now had a permanent reminder. It was also a reminder of the painful separation that you suffered from that night. Life would never be the same, all because of one lousy mistake you made.

She replaces the gown seeming, understanding your misery. "You are very lucky, Ada. The wound was deep enough to puncture a few wounds, but it missed all of them."

As she says your name, it hits you, and you remember everything. "Kaitlyn. Long time no see." You keep as calm as you can, as you stair at her intently.

Her professional face melts instantly, and transforms into a playful smirk. "I was wondering when you would recognize me. I guess saying your name was the trigger. It has been a long time. Too long in fact." She pauses before continuing. "Tell me, are you still working for Wesker?"

You are caught off guard by how abruptly she asked that. You knew that was on her mind, because something like that was just unforgettable. "It doesn't matter much now, does it?" You attempt to avoid the question, but that's a stupid thing to do against someone who knows you only too well.

She gives you a hard look. "I've known you long enough to know when you're lying, Ada, or avoiding the question."

You sigh and avert her gaze. "I haven't forgotten."

You had met Kaitlyn back at the agency. You had become quite close over the time you spent there, and she became someone you could confide in. When there were _errands_ that needed to be completed, you two were sent together because of the efficiency of your teamwork.

You both matched in skill and smarts and that made the work so much easier. Your team soon became the top at the agency, and your employers were thankful for that, and that gave you your rightly deserved rewards.

Then Raccoon City happened. You and Kaitlyn had been sent to infiltrate the umbrella base and gather all of the information and samples you could. The problem was that there had been an accident inside the lab. People had begun mutating into mindless, flesh eating zombies. Soon the virus had escaped into the city, infecting people left and right.

You and Kaitlyn were separated in the city, thanks to the frenzy that was going on. Both of you were intent on getting the information or a sample until instructed otherwise. Then you met Leon and your objectives changes slightly.

Soon after, both you and Kaitlyn had been told to retreat because the agency had caught wind that the government was going to blow up the city to get rid of the spreading virus. They didn't want to lose you to an explosion. Kaitlyn must have gone back and saved herself, but you wouldn't. You were to hell bent and proud to leave this mission unfinished.

Some complications happened and you ended up saving Leon's life, by sacrificing your own. You knew how torn up he was about seeing you die, but you can't control death.

Wesker came in at some point and saved your sorry hide. He had been watching you for some time, and you were totally unaware of it, but he found you of value to his cause. He saved your life, but he now owned it. He made you swear not to contact the agency, and make them believe you died in the explosion. You complied, given no other option, but you would make one more call before you kept to your word.

You had to contact Kaitlyn, give her the relief that you were alive, if not well. It would be the final goodbye. She was relieved to hear your voice, but you had to give her the cold shoulder. It was the most pain you had ever felt, your heart had been ripped in half. She was your other half, one that you could not live without. You had never been connected to someone that closely, and that's what made it so difficult.

You told her your story, and told her to tell your previous employers that you had died. Kaitlyn was broken by your words, and you could hear the tears in her speech and imagine them running down her face. She never cried. She was your rock that kept you from breaking. What happens when the only thing to keep you from breaking shatters? There are no words that can describe that feeling. You have to experience it to truly understand. Since then, you have been cold, keeping to yourself and gaining no relationships between people, so nothing that tragic could repeat itself.

Meeting her here was unexplainable. You didn't know how to react.

"Why are you a doctor now? Didn't you like the job at the agency?" You look back up at her, starting the conversation up again.

She crosses her arms preparing for a friendly chat that has been waited upon for quite a few years. "I needed something to occupy my time. With the money we made, what better to do then something like this? I couldn't stay at the agency. I couldn't handle work without you. It wasn't the same. It didn't have the same rush. They tried finding a replacement, but nobody could keep up to my speed. After that, I told them I was leaving. Plain and simple. They were devastated for the loss of their two best agents, and I'm pretty sure they still haven't even found a replacement that's even half as good."

You sit up in bed, a small amount of pain emanates from inside your stomach. It was time to tell her the truth. All of it.

"I couldn't come back. Wesker threatened me..."

You pause because this is where you cut your story. You wanted to keep this from her forever. You were sure you would never see her again, and have to explain the real reason you couldn't come back. But your life is so full of bad luck, you should have assumed something like this would happen. You are unsure of how to put it, but decide to just get it over with, like ripping a Band-Aid off.

"With your life."

You left this detail out to keep her mind at peace. There was no need for her to worry about her safety when she should continue living life normally, or as normal as you can after a tragedy like that.

She seemed to be thrown. "And you didn't want me to get killed so the best way was to fake death." She organized her thoughts, putting them together like pieces of a puzzle. "Wow. That was smartly played, on Wesker's behalf. What an evil bastard. I don't know how you could have worked for him for so long." Her voice is acidic, the hatred that she feels toward him finally showing.

You grimace. "I'm not so sure myself."

Her life was just too precious to give up. You would do anything to keep her safe, even at the cost of your own life. It was reckless, but it was the only person you felt anything for, aside from Leon. You don't regret it though. There are other things that need more attention then that.

She lightens the mood, drawing the attention away from that subject. "Who is that American friend of yours? He won't leave. We've told him numerous times to go home and rest, and we would contact him if something came up, but he doesn't listen."

You take her words to a whole different level, darkening the conversation once more. "How long was I out?" There is no emotion in your voice, because you want a straight answer.

She seems slightly uneasy when she answers. "Two weeks."

You knew it was going to be a long time, but that was just unexpected. Your eyes widen and you can't keep the rising surprise from leaking into your voice. "Two weeks!? Why so long?"

"Because of the high amount of alcohol in your system."

"Fortsette." The word brings back memories from when you would tell stories of the missions that you went on before you had met. You had picked it up from a mission in Norway and it became a habit. _Go on._

"It was too dangerous to work on you. The problem was that you needed immediate treatment. We didn't know if any organs had been opened, so we had to take a look. Fortunately, there was nothing wrong. We stitched you back up but you had lost too much blood. We needed a blood donor with your blood type. We were lucky there was one in the area. The negative side to this was the acidity level of your blood. It was way above normal and you could have died. It makes me wonder what you have been doing to get that so high."

You stay silent this time absorbing the information, understanding it completely, so she takes this as a sign to continue. "We had to lower the acidity level back to normal. We had to keep exchanging your blood for the less acidic one. The other complication with the blood acidity was that the wound wasn't healing properly. It got infected and you started running a high fever. After a week of fighting the infection, it finally left when we returned your blood acidity to normal. You sorely needed those two weeks of rest. You body was worn out anyway."

You look down at your stomach as she speaks, knowing about the angry scar that now rests there permanently, underneath the thin cloth of the gown.

After a moment of silence she speaks, this time quietly, soothingly. "The American is the reason you've been drinking, isn't he?"

She doesn't even need to ask if alcohol was the reason for the high blood acidity level, she can just read you. You find it unnerving that someone can read you so well. It has been a long time and you had long since forgotten that feeling. You liked being a closed book, independent, on your own wavelength. You can't do that while she's around, but you prefer her over anyone else.

"It's my fault. I'm the one who let him get the best of me. I let him go, but my mind says otherwise. I had to come up with something to keep my mind at ease."

"That's not like the Ada I knew. No one got the best of her." Her voice is slightly teasing.

You scowl at how you have fallen from such high standards. And now, someone else can see it. "Time wears on a person. It changes them, grinding their minds and souls into something different. It's a dangerous resource, and a powerful weapon. There is only so much of it left."

"Then use it wisely. Instead of dwelling on what you could have done or should have done, take action. C'mon, Ada. You were always the best at this. Look how the tables have turned. These years haven't been good to you, I can see that." Her voice is low at the end, feeling and sharing your pain.

Before you can say anything in your defense, Kaitlyn swivels her upper body and looks towards the door. "Your American friend is making his return."

You listen closely and see that she is correct. You can hear soft footsteps begin to make their way close, getting louder and louder with each step. "I see you haven't lost your touch. I commend you."

She turns to you, a proud look barely showing beneath her features. "Of course not. I may have left, but I don't get lazy."

You roll your eyes playfully, a ghost of a smile playing on your lips. "I should have known you would never truly forget your assassin techniques."

"I pretty sure you wouldn't either, but I can't see you doing anything else anyway." Her voice is defensive in a good-humored way.

Even just thinking about not being a spy sends a slight shiver down your spine. It was what you were born to do, and had been training since you were born. Mother and father had made sure of that.

You pretend to consider it for a second. "I guess you're right."

Before you can tease each other anymore, you hear Leon's footsteps approach the door and enter the room. He instantly freezes up as he sees Kaitlyn standing there, and you sitting up in bed. You watch his face as he takes it all in and apologizes. "Sorry to disturb you doctor."

The astonishment on his face makes you want to laugh, but you know better then to do that. Kaitlyn keeps a straight face, reflecting your own.

"It's alright. I was just finishing up here." Her voice sounds so professional, it almost makes you forget who she is. It shocks you over how much she has changed over the time you have been apart. It makes you dwell on the fact that you have changed just as much.

He cautiously moves a little farther into the room, and you realize that there is no more time for you and Kaitlyn to talk here. You will have to find her office and talk to her, warn her of the thing to come, because of your unexpected encounter.

You cut the mood with a quick question. "Where are my clothes?"

Kaitlyn spins around to face you, her expression softening, sympathetic about your urgency to leave, but Leon is the one who speaks up.

"On the chair in the corner." You look in the direction that he was referring to and see that he was correct.

"Let me take the IV out of your hand before you try anything."

Kaitlyn grabs your hand gently and starts easing away the tape, holding the needle in place. It sticks to your skin as if it had formed a bond over the past weeks, and refuses to let you go. She removes the needle and you feel the tugging of the skin around the thin metal shaft as she does. When the needle is fully removed, she presses a cotton ball on the spot. Before you have any time to react, she places a hot pink Band-Aid on top.

She smirks down at you, knowing exactly how you feel. You come up with a smart ass retort, but keep it to yourself, because you don't want Leon seeing you act so absurdly to a doctor. Instead, your eyes burn lightheartedly into hers.

You realize that you are really going to miss her. You had a proper meeting and now it will sting even more. You want nothing more then to visit her regularly. She was, _is_, your better half, but for her safety, you can never see her again, or at least until Wesker dies, which could be years.

"Thanks."

You shift yourself to the edge of the bed and throw your legs over. You push yourself up carefully, making sure you can stand. You sway slightly but quickly regain your composure and pad over to your clothes.

Before you can grab anything, Kaitlyn speaks up. "Ada."

You turn towards her. "The back of your gown is open."

You feel at the backside of your gown and feel that it's true. Your eyes flash to Leon, who is looking at the ground, blushing slightly. You smirk. Taunting him is one thing that makes life that much more enjoyable. Kaitlyn sees the exchange and smiles completely understanding.

This time you hold your gown shut as you gather your clothes up in your arms. You straighten and head towards the bathroom. Leon moves out of your way, continuing to avoid your gaze. You chuckle inaudibly as you shut the heavy metal door behind you. _That is sure to burn an image into his mind he wont soon forget. _

You place the clothes on the counter and look at your reflection in the mirror. You stiffen and stare at the person in the mirror who is watching you back. You barely recognize her tattered from. Her hair is all over the place and sticking up in sections. Her eyes are outlined in dark circles, proof that she hasn't had a decent sleep in a while, and her lips aren't the same dull rose they usually are. You wonder if you are looking at a reflection or a picture that a painter has ruined.

You're amazed that Kaitlyn even recognized you at all, for you can't even distinguish yourself. You look at the light blue cloth draped over your body, and you instantly want to be rid of the loose fabric. The only thing stopping you is the distastefully coloured skin underneath. _Let's not keep them waiting_.

You let the fabric fall from your shoulders, and pool at your ankles. You knew what to expect, but it still makes you frown in discomfort. Now there are two marks on your body reminding you of the hardships of your life, the moments spent with _him, _and the mistakes you have made.

You take a deep breath, knowing there is no way to take them back. There is a surgery for it, but time is a precious commodity, that is better spent doing other things. _What other things? Drinking and wasting your life away? Yeah, that's productive_.

You pull on your clothes at a quick pace, not wanting to keep anybody waiting. You attempt to clean up your scrambled hair, running your nailed finger thought it a few times and fixing it as best you can. It doesn't help overly much, but you do look somewhat cleaner.

The clicking of your heels echoes throughout the empty room as you take the short steps to the door. You open the door and find both of them waiting expectantly, but turn to Kaitlyn first.

"Thanks for your help, doctor."

Kaitlyn nods, her expression strictly professional, if not the smallest bit content.

"It was my pleasure."

Leon thanks her as well, and you head for the door, and he's hot on your heels. Sometimes his presence agitates you, like now for instance. You have to get him away from him for a number of reasons, but most importantly, because you need to talk to Kaitlyn.

You round the second corner from the door, and whip around to face him. He doesn't seem the slightly surprised.

You ask a most obvious question, unsure why you are asking it.

"Why are you following me?"

Leon doesn't miss a beat. "You get off your death bed and expect me to just leave you?"

"What?" You don't quite understand what he means, although the pieces are slowly coming together. _Was I really that close to death?_

"You nearly died, Ada. You were lucky that they could save you. What have you been up to in the last few months, or years?"

The look in his eyes scares you slightly. It's determination. Pure, raw determination. You want to tell him, satisfy his hunger for knowledge, but at what cost? Cause even more pain then necessary?

"And what makes you think it involves you?" Your voice is bitter, and you can taste it on your own tongue. He should know the answer to the question if he knows you so well, but he doesn't. You didn't let that happen.

"Why won't you ever share anything? Thoughts, feelings, what is so important that you have to keep it to yourself?" He's frustrated with your reluctance to answer any of his questions.

"Because it doesn't concern anyone, and they should keep their noses out of it."

He sighs and shakes his head. "Fine. Then at least answer one question."

"No promises." You say, nonchalantly.

He gives a dirty look, but continues on. "Who is that doctor to you? I don't think normal doctors give their patience blood, or give out blood at all."

You can't answer because you are too stunned. He catches your surprise before you can hide it. "She didn't tell you that, did she?"

You don't allow any more elaboration on the subject, as you cut it off. "Go to your car. I'll meet you up front when I'm finished."

He gives you a doubtful look, but complies none the less. He turns and continues down the hall, and doesn't look back. _Still the same rookie cop from Raccoon City_. You watch him for a few steps before you spin on your heel and set off to find her office.

You don't have the time or patience to walk around the corridors and look for her office, so you head directly to the secretary's office on this floor. It's in the middle of an intersection of hallways, so this would defiantly help your search. You assert yourself into the window, and grab the startled secretary's attention.

"What can I help you with?" Her voice is high and somewhat irritating.

If you worked here, you are pretty sure it would drive you crazy after hearing it all day. There is a nametag on her shirt that says Lyn. You are not sure why this is important, but details save lives.

"Where is Dr. Livingston's office?"

You hope that Kaitlyn has kept her last name, and you don't sound like you have no idea what you are talking about.

"Go down the hall on your left and it's the third door on your right." _Lucy stroke._

You turn abruptly and saunter off, not bothering to thank her. The doors leading up to hers all have names that start with L.

_Lamb. _

_Liszt._

_Livingston_.

You spot her door in the exact place that the secretary had informed you it was in. You attempt to calm yourself before take the necessary action, but it's unsuccessful. You force your entry, not bothering to knock, feeling your blood begin to boil. She has to account for her actions.

Kaitlyn's head snaps up from her paperwork, and she's ready for action. You shut the door behind you, not wanting unnecessary ears hearing your conversation. Her face adjusts to the situation as soon as she sees you, becoming more curious. "Back so soon?"

"Why did you use yourself as the donor?" You cut right to the chase, your voice is hard.

She leans back in her chair, relaxing and unintimidated by your tone. "Your American friend tells you everything, doesn't he?"

You want your answer, so keep silent, staring at her intently.

"I couldn't have you die in my care, Ada. It wouldn't have felt right."

"Because of your little stunt, Leon wants answers."

"And what's wrong with that? It's not like you haven't ever avoided the questions before."

You realize that this fight just isn't worth is. If you fight against the ones you love, then what is left to live for? "I just want this madness to end, for things to go back to the way that they were. But what's done is done, and it won't happen."

"I agree with you. I want nothing more then that. That's gone now, so we must move on and make the best of right now."

_If only it were that easy_. "I know."

You sigh before continuing, on the inevitable loss that comes next. "I have to go. I came here to warn you of Wesker."

_As if she needs more to worry about_. _There you go again, giving someone more then they can handle, even if it's for their own good._ You don't need to warn her of much more, because she already knows.

"Thank you. I will keep it in mind. I hope we meet again on more normal standards." There is a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach that you are unsure of. You have something to look forwards to and it makes you _pleases_ you.

"As do I."

You both know that it is next to impossible, but deny it in your mind. Hope is what is needed. Hope sees the invisible, feels the intangible and achieves the impossible, so all you need is a little piece of it. Hope keeps the weak going, even if they only portray that they are strong. Strength is nothing more then how well you hide the pain.

"Goodbye, Ada."

"See you around, Kaitlyn."

You turn and stroll from the room, as if this goodbye is nothing more then a casual meeting. You feel her gaze resting lightly on your back. At the door, you take one last look at her confident expression a silent promise passing between you, and exit, shutting the door behind you.

You breathe deeply easing yourself away from the wall of tears threatening to spill over from behind your eyelids. When you finally regain composure, you look up and are ready for what comes next.

Before you can even take a step from the door, the room behind you explodes, blinding you and sending you to the floor.

* * *

**Thanks to everyone who is leaving reviews. It almost makes me reluctant to put up chapters, because they may not meet my standards. I can say that I'm not entirely please with the turnout of this story, but I am happy with it. I hope you all enjoy, and don't hurt me because of the cliffhanger. I love teasing people. And it does bring up the question. Is another force at work, or did Ada commit the crime? Mwahahaha! **


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

_Sometimes all you can do is laugh to keep yourself from crying._

Being totally useless in a time of great need is absolutely irritating. And what makes it even worse, you can't control when it happens. You force yourself to react but are unable to, your entire body resisting your commands.

When you finally do recover, and can see and hear again, you get up and charge back into the room. You aren't thinking straight, as you look around the smoky room for some sign of life. All efforts are futile, and her or her body is nowhere to be found.

You can hear shocked voices emanating from the doorway, and know that people are coming to investigate the scene. You have to act quickly and strictly on instincts, to avoid suspicion of any sort. The only escape that would evade most of that would be through the window.

You can vaguely see it though the haze, and hastily make your way over, attempting not to trip on anything that was thrown to the floor in the explosion.

You gaze out of the window and see that the building is only two stories off of the ground. It would be an easy jump. You look back at the unclear entrance to the room, and make out the indistinct outlines of people brave enough to look into the disaster. You launch yourself out of the window, finally able to breath easily again, and make sure you land correctly. Landing incorrectly would be devastating to your job, let alone your health.

You sprint in the direction of the front entrance, and pray that Leon has done exactly what you asked. It would be so much more valuable to this situation, helping the escape out greatly.

As you round the corner, you see a fairly new, shiny, cobalt blue mustang. You surmise that it is Leon, and hopefully he is ready to go. He has probably seen the explosion, because it could be seen from both sides of the hospital. No doubt there will be questions. You don't bother to do up your seat belt, as you get in and slam the door.

"Drive!" You demand urgently at Leon.

He twists the key in the ignition, and slams on the gas with such force that you are slammed onto the seat and lose your breath. You gasp for air, and his attention flashes between you and the road.

"I thought it was only for a few questions."

"It was." Your voice is hollow from the shock of the incident.

The blast wasn't what has upset you. It was the fact that you couldn't find her body, and are wondering if she is dead or if someone came in and took her.

"Care to tell me why the building has a hole in it?"

"Not really."

He's silent for a moment and you know he's thinking, the gears in his mind are working, furiously trying to come up with something. You can tell that he's not happy about you not distributing your knowledge.

"Where exactly am I taking you?"

"To my car. I'll tail you back to your house."

He doesn't reply and just shifts the gears, speeding up. He seems to be heading in the direction of the bar. You don't tell him anything as he finds the exact place your car is in. The only problem is that you don't recognize your car. Not in the way it should be recognized in anyway.

Leon had almost driven past by the time you had found your voice enough to speak. The sight filled you with sick amazement, making you want to scream out in lost agony. But you can't. Your mind is frozen, numb with the attempts to comprehend what has happened. You can't even open the door and force yourself to stumble out and look at the wreck.

The car is almost smashed beyond recognition. You know it's yours because you have had this car too long to forget what it looks like. It's too broken to be fixed, and a new car would be way easier to get anyways. But you don't want a new car. You want _yours._ It was a constant in your life of variables, and now even that was unpredictable.

"Go."

There is no time to dwell on such things, for there is only so much time left. That meant that there were two things that have gone wrong. One more was sure to happen, because they always came in threes.

He drives in silence back to his house, and you know it's for the best. You are pretty sure that if you speak, you will shatter into a million tiny pieces that cannot be repaired.

The car finally comes to a stop in the parking lot of a large apartment building. It appears to be well kept, but you don't expect less from Leon. You follow him to his room on the sixth floor, and some of the shock has worn off.

Maybe all of it was for the best. More feelings slowly disappearing until you are cold and that is all you will be. All your missions could be completed smoothly and without hesitation because you have nothing to lose. But that only makes you more dangerous. The most dangerous enemy is one with nothing to lose. But you still have one more connection to your emotions. Leon.

_Maybe killing him will set everything into place…. Maybe…_ That thought sends cold shivers down your spine, and you quickly push it off. You don't want to lose yourself. That thought is too gruesome to even imagine.

His voice brings you back from reality. "Want anything?"

Food would be great, but that doesn't hold your interest right now. "Red wine, if you have any."

He gives you a dark look, and you roll your eyes. "I don't plan on over drinking, and you're here to watch."

"Mhm." He hums as he walks off into the kitchen and you take a good look at his apartment.

The most noticeable would be how open it is. There are no walls except for a room that looks like a spare. There is a big picture window looking over the city and it looks amazing. The sun is setting so it gives the apartment an eerie glow that somehow is comforting.

The kitchen is 'U' shaped and it adds to the openness. Across from it is a spiral staircase, which leads up to a small balcony. You guess that Leon's room is up there. Overall, the apartment is well designed, and to your liking.

You slip out of your heels, pushing them to the side and walk over to the couch. You throw your jacket over the couch and place yourself onto it, unwinding after that half a day of stress. You may have been out for the last two weeks, but you're still exhausted.

Leon comes from the kitchen and hands you your wine, before turning on the lights and settling into the lay-z-boy. He knows that darkness is coming too. He has chosen scotch for himself.

"Do you mind telling me why the building exploded now?"

After some reluctance, you decide to answer, finally giving him something that he wished. "I guess you deserve to know."

You tell him about Kaitlyn and the incident at the hospital, but you leave out certain details. He wouldn't even know they were missing and he didn't need more stress anyways. He listened intently to your story, soaking up all the detail he could. He would take a drink occasionally and so would you. It eases the pain a little.

When you had finished the first glass, he gave you a second. The wine was high quality and it just added to the whole setting. It was relaxing and that scares you. If you aren't paying attention, things can happen. When you finished your story, the light outside had faded and the city was glowing as far as the eye could see. In these cities, it seemed like the stars came from below instead of above. It was beautiful, in a suburban kind of way.

Leon breaks the silence with an obvious comment. "You two were close."

You hum your agreement and take another sip of the cool liquid. Unfortunately, he had put the pieces together in his head and one important one was missing.

"Why didn't you return?"

"There were… complications." You gave him a simple answer hesitating slightly and he isn't content with it, but you know that he knows better then to question you. He won't get the answers he's looking for nonetheless.

"Well, I don't think she's gone. If she's your equal, then there's no doubt in my mind that she survived."

You aren't sure if this is a compliment or not but brush it off anyhow. When he sees that you aren't going to answer, he gets up, taking your empty glass and places it next to the sink with his. He turns to you before he speaks up again.

"If you don't have to leave then you can stay here tonight."

You look at him and see the honest kindness resting in his eyes. He truly wants you to stay. He knows you are hurt and is trying to help the healing. It's a harmless offer, so why not accept?

"Alright."

He seems relived.

"The spare bedroom is right there and there is a bathroom attached. Towels are underneath the sink."

As he mentions the bathroom, you feel slightly disgusted. You haven't washed yourself in two weeks and are wearing the same clothing from then. You decided to test Leon's hospitality, stretching it to his maximum.

"Do you have a change of clothing I can borrow?"

He cocks an eyebrow and there is a ghost of a smirk on his face. He knew you were going to ask that. "Sure."

You watch from the couch as he climbs the stairs and disappears into his room. He reappears moments later with a pile of clothing that appears to be comfortable enough. You force yourself out of the comfortable position on the couch and grab the pile of clothes from him before sauntering off to the bedroom and closing the door behind you. You can feel Leon's eyes burning into your back, unsure of what he is feeling.

You place the pile on the bed and go straight into the bathroom and strip yourself clean, avoiding the mirror. The hot water drumming on your back puts your mind at ease. You are at a loss of time, and the only thing that warns you that its time to move is the water beginning to cool. Your skin was hot from the long extension and the cooling water raises goose bumps on your skin. You quickly shut it off and get out.

You dry yourself and pull on the clothes that Leon has given you. It's a pair of grey boxers and a faded chocolate brown t-shirt. The boxers have the most unique feeling, and it definitely is an acquired taste. They fit perfectly which is strange and makes you wonder why they are in his possession.

You look down at the bed and it looks so warm and inviting, but someone knocking at a door other then yours draws your attention away. It seems to be emanating from a door just outside of yours, but that would be the front door.

_Who would possible come over at this time? _You exit your room and open the door. Both to your dismay and approval, she has survived.

"Kaitlyn. You did survive." Your voice is calm and collected.

She smirks, but you can tell she is drained from some effort. "Well, who were you expecting? The pizza guy?" Even in this state she can still be sarcastic.

You hastily scan over her, taking in all the injuries. She has a bandage wrapped around her head, but there is no blood soaking though. Her arm, on the other hand, is dripping blood through all of her attempts to stop it.

"Come in. I need to fix you up." You are not going to let her suffer like this.

"Will your friend be okay with this?"

"He won't mind. Now get in here." You hope Leon won't mind, and with a bit of luck, his hospitality will stretch that far.

She limps inside, shutting the door behind her, and you know that Leon has probably heard it and is coming to check it out. On cue, he comes around the corner and stops abruptly, eyeing her up and down and unsure of what to make of her.

"Don't just stand there. Go get a first aid kit."

There is no time to dawdle, she needs immediate treatment, and it shows in your voice. He doesn't question you and hurries into the bathroom. You let him get what you asked for and lead Kaitlyn to the couch and insist she sit on it.

"I'm going to make a mess of it."

"I don't care. I'll buy him a new couch if he complains."

She complies but as she turns her back to you, you can see small spots of blood, pinpricks all over. "You need to take off your shirt. I need to take a look at your back too."

"No, I'm okay. It's the arm that needs to be looked after."

You stare into her eyes, enforcing your words with a glare. "I'm going to fix you up, whether you like it or not."

"Fine." She sounds annoyed in a sarcastic way, and it makes you smile.

She removes her shirt with some difficulty due to her arm, and you eventually help her. When you look at her back you are stuck in dismay. Small glass shards have implanted themselves in an array of places. Picking them out is going to be hell, but at least there are small spots of blood marking their location.

You can hear Leon making his approach before you can actually see him. He hands you the package and sits on the opposite couch, at a loss of words. You turn back to Kaitlyn and her arm and the blood that is seeping through the cloth.

"We need to take a look at the arm."

She hums almost inaudibly, and she knows what you are going to find. You remove the makeshift bandage and blood instantly beings to rush out. The hair on the back of your neck stands up fully perceiving the full extent of the injury. The metallic sent fills your nose, but it doesn't bother you. You know that the world has gone mad when that smell doesn't nauseate you. It's just not right.

You reach for the materials to stitch it up but she stops you. "You have to get the bullet out first."

You stare at her blandly. "I really want to know what happened when I left that room."

"Don't worry. I'll spill." She grimaces.

You dig out the bullet quickly with tweezers, stitch her up and bandage it. She already looks paler because of the loss of blood. All that she needs now is time to relax and cover from whatever horrors she has experienced.

She relaxes into the chair fatigued at what she has gone through. She hasn't told you anything yet, but she will all in good time. She can't pass up telling and watching your reaction.

She sighs. "That feels much better." She's trying to draw the attention away from her other wounds that, to her, don't need attending to.

"I'm not done with you yet."

She shuts her eyes. "Yeah, I know." _Fail._

You get off the couch and silently invite her to the familiar position. She falls onto her side and rolls over onto her stomach, her knees bent and her shins on the arm rest. You smile faintly, remembering how it used to work.

"Exactly."

You grab the tweezers off of the coffee table and climb onto the small of her back. It's comfortable enough for both of you, which helps in these situations.

The next part is like the game of operation. It's frustrating taking the time to remove each individual piece perfectly, being sure to not hurt her more. It takes patience and accuracy, something that happens to be running a little thin lately. When you finish that part, you have to rub it down with antiseptic, feeling her hiss at the acidic burn of the liquid.

She relaxes in that position and it makes the job much easier. She stays silent through the entire thing, and you wonder if she has fallen asleep. When you move off of her, she reacts, pushing herself into a sitting position. She looks horrible. Tonight is obviously not a good night for her story, but first thing in the morning, she will have some explaining to do.

Leon had been watching you in soundless admiration, and you seem to break him from that trance, demanding something more from him.

"Can you go get Kaitlyn some pants she can use for the night?"

"Sure."

He doesn't seem to be bothered by her staying here, at least on the outside. If he is hiding anything from you, he is doing it pretty damn well. He heads up the stairs once more for your request.

"Take off your pants. I want to look at the knee for good measures."

She takes them off, too tired to fight with you. Her knee is in horrible shape. It's swollen an angry crimson with a gash running along the side of the patella, right where the ligaments are. You hope that it hasn't hit anything, ruining her knee forever. That would make her handicap to any of part of the career she used to have, depressing her beyond belief.

There's not much you can do to it and she knows that too. You clean it and dress it, finishing as Leon makes his return. He hands you a pair of long, black sweats. His attention, on the other hand, is on the half dressed, should-be supermodel.

The unnerving feeling of jealousy fills your mind and blinding you, making you want to comment. You hold it in, knowing it will only make things worse. Kaitlyn feels the same way beside you, not wanting his attention. There is another feeling coming from her too. You are unsure of what it is, but you can't dwell on it any longer when she quickly covers it up.

You hand her the pants and a bottle of Advil from the coffee table.

"You can have the spare room. You look like you need the sleep."

She glares up at you, knowing that you are putting her before yourself. You're the one who was out for two weeks due to an injury and too much alcohol. She doesn't have the energy for voicing her opinion right now. Leon stiffens as well, wondering what you are going to do. If Kaitlyn notices it, she gives no sign, as she pushes herself off of the couch and to the bedroom.

"Goodnight."

"Carpe Noctem."

You freeze up wondering exactly what she is implying with that. She closes the door softly behind her, and you sink back into the couch and shut your eyes, utterly drained. Kaitlyn doesn't need to see this weakness, and it doesn't really matter if Leon does.

His voice is dark and quiet as he speaks. "Where are you going to sleep?"

You don't open your eyes to his voice. "Right here." Your voice is warm and uncaring, as if this really doesn't bother you.

The truth is, it doesn't. There have been worse situations. This would be luxury compared to most of them. You hear him getting off the couch and you slowly open your eyes.

He gathers the supplies, shuts of the light and heads for the stairs. He never leaves so quietly, and you know there is something happening in his mind, but you could care less. Right now, all yours is doing is shutting down.

* * *

**I tried to make this a little more exciting. I hope it worked. With exams and studying for my 'L' and everything that's going on the next one may take a while. Just saying. It could be fast too. It all depends on when I get it finished. If you get bored, check out my other story. Hope you like it.**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

_A part of you has grown in me,  
together forever we shall be,  
never apart, maybe in distance,  
but not in the heart._

Morning is a natural thing for everyone. Some can't stand it, but to others, it's the only time they can operate. You don't need to open your eyes to know its morning. Something in your system just wakes you up and you cannot fall back asleep. It may just be the habit of waking up at unruly hours for so long, and your body just keeps to the schedule.

You don't open your eyes as you stretch and feel the cotton blanket shift at your movements and your limbs reach for the edge of the mattress. You freeze up at that thought. _Mattress? Blanket?_

Your eyes snap open and you sit up in one swift movement. You were sprawled in the middle of a queen bed with deep ocean blankets. It's all so foreign. You try to recollect what had happened. You remember falling asleep on Leon's couch, but where are you know? Are you dreaming, or have you been asleep for longer then you anticipated and you were moved?

You throw the covers off of yourself, but you are still wearing what you had been when you fell asleep… whenever it was. You throw your legs over but place them softly on the floor, not wishing to alarm someone incase you are not in safe hands. You pad delicately to the door, your senses on high, preparing for whatever may be waiting for you out there.

You gradually open the door, hoping it won't groan in the process, giving away your position. To your luck, it doesn't. When you have opened it wide enough for your athletic form to fit through, you peek outside and instantly realize where you are.

You are met with a second floor view of Leon's apartment, and what a great view it is, for a few reasons. You wonder how he got you up here without waking you. Maybe your really were that tired. Leon's back is to you and he appears to be cooking something. He's topless and wearing flannel plaid pajama pants. _Great view, if I do say so myself._

You slink down the stairs, praying he doesn't turn around. The element of surprise is one of the best to use to your advantage. He's flipping pancakes and is oblivious to your silent advances. You know the perfect way to shock him.

You grab a fork from the counter, and it doesn't make a single noise, which really improves the situation. His flipping increases with each flick of the wrist until it makes its peak and you decide to strike. You whip the fork at the pancake, striking it dead centre, and pin it limply to the wall. You cross your arms and smirk at the beautiful accuracy of the throw.

He spins around to meet his deadly attacker, frying pan at the ready. It truly is a comical sight.

He recovers quickly, slightly embarrassed. "You scared me. And you ruined my pancake too."

"A little target practice never hurt."

"With my food?"

You shrug coolly. "Could have been worse."

He turns back to the food, knowing what you are going to express next. You were just flashing your claws with the fork. You sigh at his ignorance.

"Mind telling me how I got up there?" You voice is questioning, but has the pitch of already knowing the answer, and it has the effects to drag the answer from him.

He doesn't turn to you as he speaks. "I don't believe guests should be treated poorly." He states nonchalantly.

You don't miss a beat. "And how exactly did you get me up there without waking me?"

He turns. "You were out cold. There was no resistance when I placed you on the bed." He gives a faint devilish grin. "You actually hummed your agreement."

You can feel your face growing warmer, the heat rising up your neck. _Oops._ You always had a soft spot for comfortable sleeping arrangements. You never were in one place for a long length of time, and that was one of the many sacrifices you had to make.

You can't come up with a retort and lucky for you, Kaitlyn interrupts the meeting. "I'm not sure what to make of this scene." She expresses herself, as she stretches.

You both turn to her and watch her finish stretching before she decides to continue. Her gaze wanders to something beside Leon before flickering up to his face. "I'd watching watch what you're doing."

He turns to the stove, before cursing and attending to the burning batter. You snort your amusement and she shakes her head, delighted at his misfortune, before walking over to you.

"Что я пропускал?_ What did I miss?_

"Ничто."_ Nothing _

"Ничто? Ваше покраснение, Айда."_ Nothing? Your blushing, Ada. _

You scowl at her, before answering sarcastically. "Не мог помочь мне."_ Couldn't help myself._

She removes her focus from the conversation, knowing you will tell her when you feel like it. You can feel Leon's uneasiness coming off of him in waves. He doesn't understand what you are saying and that's the intended goal. _Good thing we mastered Russian._

Kaitlyn pipes up again. She is never one to suppress her feelings. "Is there any coffee made?"

Leon doesn't turn around, too focused on the mess. "Yeah, in the pot to the left. Cups are above it and everything else is on the table."

She grabs both of you a cup before spotting the fork and pancake imbedded in the wall. She gives you a questioning glance but you wave it off. It's not important right now anyways. You sit at the table and add two teaspoons of sugar to yours, Kaitlyn only adding cream.

You two were opposites when it came to this, but it only brought you closer. You take a sip of the warm liquid and feel the caffeine already beginning to work its magic.

"What happened when I left the room?" It was time for answers, lot of them.

"Well, all I can say is that, if you were trying to kill me, you would have. The technique wasn't brilliant, and had one flaw. Sound. When you left, I heard it, shot the window and jumped out. The room exploded from behind me, and I hit the ground awkwardly. I had to get up and escape so attention couldn't be drawn to me. I fled into the sea of cars and watched. I saw you jump out moment late and run for a car. I assumed it was your friends' so I tracked it. I must say that it's quite hard to do in the daylight, nightfall is all too easy."

"You still carry a gun around with you?" "Of course. I feel naked without it."

"Touché. But still doesn't explain how you have a bullet in your arm."

"I met up with an assassin… _my_ assassin. She had a British accent, and was quite young, I would say mid twenties. She was dressed in black skintight leather from toes to tits and her hair was long and brown. She was much more under experienced then me and it gave me the advantage, but she had surprise on her side. She threw a knife at me and I didn't see it coming. It hit my knee, and I was at a major disadvantage. I used her knife and _just_ escaped with my life. She only hit my arm and that was lucky enough."

You don't know of anybody of that description working for Wesker, but then again, he is probably keeping secrets from you anyways. You had best keep an eye out for her anyway because she was the one hiding in the shadows, waiting to strike.

"She doesn't sound overly dangerous, but we best keep on our toes."

Kaitlyn hums her agreement, taking a sip of coffee.

"What are you planning to do now? Obviously you can't go back, that would look too suspicious."

She pauses for a moment. "I'm not sure. I would love to go back because I didn't mind that job, but the innumerable questions I would have to answer would be too overwhelming. I was thinking of leaving for a while and starting up again in New York under a new name, but I liked it here."

"I'd ask you to join me but I don't think that's very smart."

"To tell you the truth, I don't really care about that. It's just the fact that if I did, I will have to kill you if Wesker wished so."

You hum your reply. "I think you should just play it safe for now."

"I'm going too. I will just have to go through that whole process again."

"Well when you do, make sure you contact me, and I can find you when this whole mess is over."

"That is a promise I can make."

Your conversation ends there as Leon brings over the pancakes. The meal is in silence, as you ingest the food. It really hasn't helped that you haven't eaten in a couple weeks, and haven't had a _decent_ meal in much longer. Food is a secondary thought, staying alive is primary. You want to swallow it without chewing, but you have table manners.

When breakfast is finished, you have come up with a plan. "Leon, can you take me and Kaitlyn to get a car? I need a spare one while I get one ordered in."

"Sure." Leon cleans up while you and Kaitlyn get dressed and plan your next move. You let her use your jacket as a shirt and her scrubs as pants. You tell her that you are going to get her some proper clothing and she can use the car as she wants. She likes the plan, so you are going to go with it.

The assassin will have to be hunted down and assassinated, and how ironic is that?

When all of you are ready, you take off to a car dealership that carries BMW's. _Why not go out in style?_ Leon stops in the parking lot to drop you off. You both make a move to get out but you are stopped by a gentle grip on your arm. You turn and are stopped by Leon, who is giving you a cautious look, but there is longing buried deep inside.

"Are you coming back?"

Right now, you don't have much of a choice. That assassin is still out there and you don't know what her intention is. It isn't that Leon is unable to take care of himself; you just want to keep him safe.

"Yes."

He still looks cautious, but instead of longing, there is relief. Only then does he release you, and you can step out of the car.

You quickly scan the lot and see a car that looks fine. There is no time to waste because she needs to be on the move. You both approve the colour and style so go in and buy. You put it on the best of everything, keeping it in good hands. The whole process is so long and boring. When he finally hands over the key, you leave without a second look back.

You slide into the drives side, and the crisp leather feels unnatural and unfamiliar. A stroke of longing for _that_ car passes over you, but it's too late for that.

You shove the key into the ignition and start it. "Let's see what this baby can do." You shift it into reverse, and slam on the gas, making it shoot backwards. You turn the wheel sharply and let it drift into the right direction.

You glance out of the window and see them staring at you, scared. You give a smirk, shift gears, and streak forwards, out of the parking lot and across town.

"I see your driving techniques haven't changed much."

You sniff. "Nope."

You were always the one to drive when it came to missions. Kaitlyn was the sharpshooter. She enjoyed your driving as much as you did.

You reach the apartment and warn her as you step out of the car. "Don't expect something as grand as Leon's."

Kaitlyn nods, understanding that you needed a getaway from your employer. It helps you blend in with the rest of the world. Sometimes it's best not to attract attention. In this profession, that's all of the time.

You make your way into the building and to the third floor. You unlock the door and lead her inside. You can feel her observing the bare walls and lack of furniture. "Wow. You weren't kidding."

You shrug. "I have no need to decorate it because I'll be called back eventually."

"Yes, but don't you think that adding furniture would make this place more homelike, somewhere you want to retreat to, to relax after a mission?"

You had thought of that, but this was just a crash pad, somewhere you could come back to after each night. It never had any meaning until you met Leon here, and his house had that feeling that overwhelmed your senses with something that felt so different from the way you had been living for the last while. _Safe. Secure. Comfortable. _

You shudder. This was the wrong thing to be thinking. You were working for the most dangerous man in the world and you were putting Leon at risk.

"I could, but this place is only temporary. I have to keep moving to keep as low profile as possible. People are after me."

"Your life is such a tangled mess."

"To deep to climb out." You mutter to yourself, and then you confront her. "Ignore my problems. Do you want a shower?"

"Yeah."

You show her the shower and give her clothing to wear that you don't need back. Clothing is one thing that is at your disposal. She chose jeans and a faded blue blouse.

"I'm guessing this wasn't one of your favorites."

You smile faintly. Red had always defined you, and Kaitlyn knew this. She wears the peacock blues well and that has stuck to her.

"Not really, but something told me to get it when I saw it."

"Glad you did."

You only have minutes before she comes out of the shower. Even at the agency, she took very short showers and always came out as clean as could be.

You decide to change while she's showering. You strip yourself clean and dress yourself in a new pair of jeans and a blood red halter top. You instantly feel cleaner.

You replace everything in your pockets and add the grapple gun for good measures, and toss the worn clothing into the corner. They sit there with the other clothing, waiting to be washed. _I have better things to do then tend to laundry._

You step back into the hallway just as Kaitlyn does. "You waste no time in there, do you?"

She gives you a sideways smile as she runs her fingers thought her hair. "I'm always ready this way."

"True, bu-" Your conversation gets cut short as the PDA rings from your pocket. "Shit." You curse to yourself and dig it out without looking at Kaitlyn. "Don't make a sound. If you do you _will_ die."

She leans against the wall and crosses her arms letting you continue. You press the button on the device and a picture of your employer appears on screen.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." He seems to know something, even if he's only implying it.

_Like you really care, anyways._ "No." You keep a straight face, glaring at the screen. You don't want to reveal that Kaitlyn's with you, even if he somehow already knows.

"Good because I have another task for you. Return to base and you will get full details. There is a helicopter waiting for you at the military base. You have an hour before it leave. Don't disappoint me, Ada." His picture disappears from the screen, not waiting for your consent.

"And when have I ever disappointed you?" You grumble to no one in particular.

"Already going on another mission? What's your friend going to think?"

You scowl. "He won't take it well but he doesn't have much of a choice now, does he?"

"I guess not. Do you know how long this is going to take?"

You sigh. "If I'm lucky, three days. If I'm not, three months."

"Ouch."

You hum your displeasure and walk past her and out of the door. "You coming?"

"Do you have everything you need?"

"Yes."

You go back down to the car and return to the driver's side. Instead of heading to the military base like you were told, you are heading towards Leon's house. As you pull into the parking lot, you tell Kaitlyn what to do.

"Stay with the car. Turn it around for a quick escape and I'll do the rest."

"Mhm."

You both step out of the car and get into position. You flash the grapple gun at her as you pass and it sparks her attention. "That's new."

"One of the plus sides of working with Wesker."

You aim it up at the small flower garden balcony outside of Leon's bedroom window. You press your finger on the trigger, feeling the recoil, and watch the cord snake through the air and attach itself to the stone wall of the balcony. You hold the trigger down and feel the cord strain as it begins to pull you off the ground. You can feel the tension in your shoulder as you fly through the air, towards the window.

Seconds before you can collide with the wall, you release your grip on the trigger and change the direction you are moving, from forwards to upwards. You flip and land on the balcony, retracting the cord.

You slip it into the back of your pants, and begin on the window. Thankfully, it isn't locked. You leave the window open as you walk towards the door. It would make the escape much easier. You listen for any sounds as you look over the balcony, and he isn't home.

That's relief enough. It would make this much easier. _I guess when duty calls, you have no say either._ Instead of taking the stairs, you jump from the balcony onto the lower level and land softly below.

You search through drawers, looking for pen and paper, before finally finding in the last drawer. _Leon, something has come up and I had to leave. I'm sorry I couldn't say goodbye to your face, but things change. I promise you one thing before I leave. You will be in no danger. I will personally see to that. Ada. _

You finish off with one of your signature kisses, and place it in an envelope, leaving it on the counter. You take a deep breath and prepare to leave this place that feels so much like home.

You head back up the stairs and into the room, and you hear the front door being opened. You look back out of the room, and see that Leon has returned. You watch him walk over to the envelope and he looks at it as if it's an infection. It's almost like he knows of the sorrow that follows.

You can't stand to watch this any longer, and head for the window. You don't bother to close it, leaving another marker for him to see. You fire the grapple above the window, to slow your decent and you jump off of the balcony.

You land elegantly, retracting the cord as you run towards the car. You're hoping that he doesn't have the guts to look out of the window, and by the time he does, you will be long gone.

You get into the car, and she hits the gas, making your quick escape. You look into the review mirror, and up at the picture window, to see him standing there and watching you. You can't see the look in his eyes, but you can feel them burning into you. _Anger. Confusion. Frustration. Regret._

It's done now, so you needn't worry. Kennedy could damn well take care of himself. But some instinct inside tells you otherwise. You need to protect him against the dangers that you have caused.

Right now, you have to deal with Wesker, just to keep him happy. Kaitlyn knows that you didn't actually talk to him. It's just not your style anyway.

The drive is in silence, both of you knowing what is going to happen when you step out of the car, so you keep your feelings to yourself.

When the car finally pulls to a stop outside of the military base, you speak up. "I guess this is goodbye."

"I guess so."

"I hope we can meet up again when this is all over."

"We will. I can make sure of that." She gives a devilish grin. She knows what you are thinking, and that's where Leon lives. She seems to understand that you will protect him at all causes, and respects it. She has never had anyone like that, and she intends to keep it that way.

"Fides nemo quod subsisto tutus." _Trust nobody and stay safe. _

"Usquequaque sum." _Always am. _

With that, you step out of the car, and shut the door. She hits the gas and speeds away, trying to escape the situation, but that is impossible. You have left permanent markers in each others minds. Forgetting is not an option. You quickly attain a confident pose and walk towards the base.

You have a helicopter to catch.

* * *

As you off of the ground, a thick plume of black smoke rises up from something burning down below. It's just up the road in the direction Kaitlyn was traveling. I sick feeling of dread fills you as you realize that Wesker had been watching.

You swallow hard and pray it not to be true, but there aren't any other cars on the road. There never were.

* * *

**I hope you all enjoy. I'm not quite sure how I feel about this chapter. The next one, on the other hand, is defiantly to my liking**. **And don't you all love cliffhangers? I know I do! And Kaitlyn is sure an explosion magnet. And yes I do know Russian. And what they were saying was correct, even if it was a bit of a stretch, knowing that language.  
**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

_Time is just a test to see how long love will last._

The past eight days have remained a hazy blur in your mind. It's not that you can't remember, it's that you just don't want to. This job is something that is required of your person, even if it is unwillingly.

Don't get yourself wrong, being a top notch spy is something you love to do. It's not only a job, but a passion.

On the other hand, there is the employer. The employee gets not say in their boss, or their personality. Some employers are mean bastards, and Wesker is no exception. He is a cold and calculated man with an only goal to shape the world with his hands, and will crush anything or anyone in dead in its tracks to achieve such heights.

The mission you were sent on was slightly different then the others. Instead of gathering information or collecting viral samples, you had but one goal. Destroy the nuclear weapons workshop in northern Russia.

The base was located far north in the county, away from any civilization, so its location would remain confidential. Wesker caught wind of a threat made to his organization, and sent you to clean up the mess. Lucky you.

One of the eight days was spent flying back to HQ. The next two days were spent reviewing security networks, lab layouts and the destruction plan. A bomb was to be placed in the main generating room of the facility. The explosion would cause a chain reaction and the whole place would be eliminated, complete wiping it from existence.

The fourth day you had flown out to the factory to commit your crime. It had taken most of that fifth day to infiltrate the lab, plant the bomb and escape, unharmed. On the plus side, you had your tools to help your notorious act, making it quicker and cleaner. You had boarded your escape chopper and fled a good distance before detonating the explosives. You knew you had done well when an explosion goes off in the distance, the sound barely heard over the rotating blades of the helicopter.

The night of the fifth and the entire sixth days were spent going back to base and resting. The seventh day was the worst. From dawn till dusk you spend your time filling out the report on the mission. Once the report was finished, you got the small thank you from Wesker and an oversized paycheck. He always seems to have money and it slowly filters into your account.

You finished the report early and decided to catch up on one final task. You need a new car. You already have the plan for it in mind, so all you have to do is call and order. You call the company and put in to order. Lotus Evora. Jet Black. Leather Interior. Top notch performance plan. Everything is exactly as it should be.

The final night is spent in your cramped quarters, the only reasonable room in the entire establishment. The night is rough on the small, uncomfortable bed, but you bear through it, the thought of tomorrow driving you forward.

The eight day finally arrives and you get to go home, or as close as home gets. You are flown back to New York, where you pick up your custom car and travel to Washington, DC.

You get back at a very late hour, and you are sure Leon is asleep by now, but instincts tell you to check on him. He is more then likely safe but the feeling just keeps nagging at you.

You pull up to the apartment building and all the lights are off, including his. It's only to be expected. You still want to see him, even if he doesn't see you back. A little bit of security never hurt.

You remove the grapple gun from its holster and fire at the flower garden balcony. It makes a solid noise, that you hope doesn't wake him. You zip up the window and land gracefully retracting the cord.

You look in the window, and thankfully enough, he wasn't disturbed from his sleep. You sigh with relief and watch from outside the glass wall. He sleeps so peacefully, as if there is not a care in the world.

You have no other plans so you decide to watch him, just to be safe. That's what you tell yourself anyway. You crouch before pressing you back to the short wall and slide the rest of the way down. The position is quite comfortable, if not for the old seeping from the walls, through your clothing and nipping at you your skin. You don't let that bother you.

For the next month, this is your drug. You sit outside of his window watching him sleep. The minute before dawn break is when you make your escape. You return to your apartment and sleep.

There is nothing better to do with your time, and this just seems to sooth you. You need to be awake at night when your thoughts are at bay and Kaitlyn's death isn't on your mind. _It's better then drinking._

The days turned into a blurry mess that doesn't hold your focus. During one of the many _protection_ trips, you decide that this addiction is becoming too overextended and you should end it. You know this will hurt you more then it will hurt Leon, because he probably believes that you are already gone.

The next _visit_ is when you will end this self torture. One more day of rest and it will be time to move on. Those words are venom in your mind, and more so in you heart. You know you won't be able to forget him. From his selfless acts of kindness, to the burning sensation that his eyes give you as you stare into them.

The next night rolls around without you being conscious of it, but things have to be done. The only problem with yourself is that a goodbye can't just a goodbye. You feel as if you need to put a stamp on it, and make it memorable even if just being in his presence is unforgettable. Tonight, you will say goodbye to him in person, even if he is unaware of it.

You stealthily climb into his room, the years of practice helping to keep you quiet and him asleep. You walk to the empty side of the bed, your stilettos making no noise as they sink into the plush carpet.

You sit lightly on the mattress, feeling it dip slightly at the new weight that has been added. You swing your legs on and turn to face him. His face is soft in the moonlight and it gives the perfect definition. You lean in on his sleeping form and kiss him on the cheek. His eyelids flutter and he hums slightly at the touch and you retreat, a smug look on your face. _There. You have left your mark; now leave before he wakes up._ Your inner assassin is warning you, but with the taste of him on your lips, you absolutely crave more.

You can't stop yourself from pressing your lips to his. You can feel the sorrow welled up and spilling past your lips, onto his. It is something you will have to deal with. You pull yourself away and your inches from his face as you look over the silvery features one last time.

He gives a frustrated groan at the lack of contact and you smile slightly. You are caught off guard when he forces himself at you and uses such force to roll on top of you and kiss you, pinning you to the bed.

You stay completely still, and wonder if he could taste your misery. He obviously knew something was up, or he wouldn't be keeping you here. He has you dominated due to his superior weight and strength, so you cannot escape and are in no mood to fight back.

He lifts his face from yours, and you have to suppress an angry growl from the loss of connection.

He looks down into your eyes, his expression heavily guarded. "You leave without a proper goodbye and then return because you needed one?"

You gaze up into his eyes and almost lose yourself, but you are uneasy because you are not in control of the situation. You have to choose your next words carefully. "I never planned on returning."

His stone appearance falters for a second, but before you can see what it is, he covers it up. "Then why do you keep coming back and making life that much harder?"

You have so many untold feelings, but expressing them is out of the question. It would make things way more complicated then they needed to be. You let your head fall to the side and stare out of the window, unable to meet his gaze.

You wouldn't dare look in his eyes, burning with questions that he wants the answers too, but will never receive. The thought of loneliness burns in the pit of your stomach, but these feeling will be kept bottled up, never to be expressed, even in the most desperate of situations. You feel him kiss you softly on the cheek, attempting to draw back your attention. It's unsuccessful and all you do is shut your eyes and attempt to gather your feelings.

"I shouldn't have come in. I went against instincts, and I always end up paying for it." You sigh deeply and just lay there, the heat from his body acting as your blanket.

He rests his cheek on yours, and whispers into your ear. "I'd repay that any day."

You sniff playfully at the comeback. "I'm sure you would, handsome."

You feel his contentment radiate through your body and melt away at the sorrow. He shifts slightly, and you feel his cheek leaving yours to cool. He rocks his body back to his side of the bed, taking you with him. You open your eyes and watch the world turn. He's giving you the option to leave, if that's what you really want, but you don't, and he knows it too.

He places your head just below his collar bone and the rest of you shifts to his side of his body, continually wanting his warmth.

You maneuver the leather jacket off and drop it beside the bed. With a well practiced kick, you remove your shoes and place your frigid toes next to his. You draw invisible lines along his chest, but cease doing this after some time, as he strokes your hair and caresses your face.

You slowly start to drift off, your breathing patterns matching his because of the powerful beat of his heart in your ear. With that lulling noise, it's hard to concentrate on what you should do next. _Run or stay?_ _Maybe a bit of both._

You promised to protect him, but from what? The terrible heartache that follows you around, whenever you decide to leave or come back, or Wesker and his elimination plan of everything in his way?

You take a deep breath that transforms into a yawn that you try to cover up, but find it near impossible. You are too exhausted to really care right now, and to content for _anything_ to matter. You squirm closer, if even possible and let yourself fall asleep. _Now this is the most comfortable position. No bed can ever achieve this kind of luxury._

You wake up in one of the coziest positions in the world. It's not much different then the one you had fallen asleep in. You body is cuddled up next to his, and your head is resting in his chest. His heartbeat still throbs into your head, but the soothing melody is slower this time.

His arm is around you holding you against him. It seems that he didn't want you to leave during the night. His other hand is wrapped around yours, warming your appendages even if they didn't need it.

You give a slight smile at this, and decide its better to stay, even if your professional mind is begging otherwise. You sigh and shut your eyes, drifting back to sleep.

You wake up, aware of your surroundings, but don't open your eyes. You recall that you are in Leon's room, but you can't feel his presence. You slowly open your eyes, and, just as you presumed, he's not there.

_This is the perfect time to leave. Go, now!_ Right now is probably the best time to leave, it will hurt the least, because there will be no actual goodbyes.

You slip on your coat and into your heels, and take one last desired look at him before you take off. You peek out of the room and look down at him. He's busing himself with something, like usual. It saddens you more that you have to leave this caring figure so suddenly and without his consent.

The only thing you didn't notice was the fact that he had turned around during your day dreaming. You quickly get out of sight, but are sure that he has seen you. It's the best time to make your escape. The window had been left open but that is to your advantage.

You jump out, but decide there is no time to get down from the building unnoticed. You jump down, but fire the grapple gun below the balcony, hiding underneath it, unable to be seen by Leon. Now it's all waiting. You hear him jump out of the window and throw himself against the short wall of the balcony.

"Ada! No!" The depression in his voice mortifies you, and you want nothing more then to comfort him, and you almost do, if only your mind stays sharp.

You can only imagine the look on his face, and it's best not too. You hear him talking to you, as if he knows you are within earshot. "I will wait for you, Ada. I promise you this. I will wait until the end of time, just please return alive and unharmed. And if that's too much, just return alive."

There is a long pause and you wonder if he has left, but you can't recall it. You finally hear him reenter the window and slide it shut, believing that you are truly gone.

You fall to the ground before looking back up at his apartment. He isn't looking out of the window, and it makes you think that he has already forgotten you. "If you make that promise, Kennedy, then I shall make one. I will return, even if it means that I have to put a bullet in Wesker's head myself. I promise you that I will keep you safe."

You tear your gaze away from the window, and head towards your car. As you reach the car, the PDA in your pocket goes off, and it's time to start all over again.

* * *

**Mhmmmm, tastes good. The next one will explain more and it will be up in minutes.**


	7. Epilogue

Epilogue

She watched from the shadows of the cars in the parking lot. She watched her companion drop from the window, and proclaim her promises to him.

When she had driven away, it was safe to come out. Because Ada had made such a big promise, it was her duty to carry it on. _Why not keep him safe, if that's what she wanted? It shouldn't be that bad. _

With that, Kaitlyn went up to his apartment, keeping a promise to Ada, as well as herself.

* * *

**Before you can ruffle any feathers, let me explain. This will have answers. Except for Trigonometry. Sorry.**

**First of all this is not the end! This short story is the first chapter in the grand scheme of all things. And yes, that does mean that there are more to come. But I have to finish writing them first. I have several amazing ideas in my head right now, so I'm just writing them on paper.**

**I will reveal nothing more about the next book or something like that because just leaving you hanging is what I do for a living. There are defiantly going to be more because first of all, Wesker never stays dead, his employees, and what about Claire and that annoying brat Ashley? Exactly. **

**I got the inspiration from a song actually. Belle of the Boulevard by Dashboard Confessional. I love that song and that's how the story got started. **

**I love all of you who have been reviewing my story, and it has given me something to do in my spare time! Something that I actually look forward too. A BIG thank you to all of you!**

**Leon and Ada belong to CAPCOM. But I own Kaitlyn! Mwahaha!**

**Yeah, this chapter was short, if you even wanna call it that.  
**


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